Home
by 231368535
Summary: In which Mukuro and Hibari are neighbors living in the same apartment comples, and Mukuro asks Hibari to cook him a late birthday meal. Could be taken as or not slash.


Hey Y'all. This is my late christmas gift that has now officially become her birthday gift. So Happy Birthday Killin' Lion!

A little bit more on the setting before you read, I took the idea the Hibari and Fong are related (as revealed at the end of a Haru-Haru interview) and some little snippets that Amano Akira wrote about Fong. I believe it was some captions to go along with the fanart section in one of the volumes. You'll find what I'm talking about as you read, so with out further ado, enjoy!

Katekyo Hitman Reborn! belongs to Amano Akira. I do not own the series.

* * *

It was Sunday night, and Mukuro sat at the kitchen counter, tapping his unused fork at the tiles as he absently stared up at the fluorescent lights. It casted a somewhat dim sort of glow upon the place, almost like a run down horror house. Still, Hibari's apartment was nothing compared to Mukuro's in terms of eeriness.

That being said, the neighborhood children still had their daily dares, making each other ring the doorbells of the most feared man in the building or "the pineapple".

Mukuro twisted the fork around finishing the twirl with a harsh stab into the granite. He didn't even like pineapples.

Setting his fork back down, Mukuro turned the chair around, so as to face the dining room. Hibari's apartment was quite plain and bare. The fact that Hibari lived in one of the larger apartments on the eighteenth floor only seemed to enhance the emptiness feel. Every Sunday, Hibari would commence a through cleansing of all the rooms. However, he only occupied one, which he filled with all that he ever needed: a desk to do paperwork and a bed to sleep on. Though his apartment had not only dining room but also a living room, he never used both when it was just him. He cooked in the kitchen and ate at the countertop. If his subordinates came for a meal, he let them eat at the kotatsu, which he kept year round. Mukuro often wondered what he did with it during the summer, as it was still plugged in. During the winter, none other than Mukuro put it to good use. Sometimes, Dino would come and sit for a while underneath it, even though he owned one in his penthouse above. He like Mukuro, received the same treatment.

All in all, Hibari, himself would occupy a total of three rooms. After all, as he had stated, that was all he needed. Mukuro often wondered why he chose to live such an "ascetic" lifestyle. Hibari definitely had money, not like the Bucking Horse, but still much more than Mukuro. It was apparent as he lived on one of the smallest apartments on the bottom floor. While Hibari had many rooms still unoccupied, by even storage, Mukuro had to find ways to be able to fit not only him but also all of his "stuff".

He had a dingy little kitchen, that despite it's looks could still boil water for cup noodle perfectly fine, he had a tiny space to put a desk and maybe a TV. His bedroom was a number he didn't want to reveal tatami mats by because it would be too embarrassing tatami mats. He slept on a futon, which he rolled up in the morning when he left. It was quite cramped, so Mukuro spent his mornings at the register for work, his afternoons in class, his breaks in the library, and his nights aimlessly wandering the streets. He could have taken up another job, but there wasn't a lot of opportunity in Namimori. Not that Namimori was bad, it was just simply uneventful. Even the majority of the adults didn't work in their own city. Every year for his birthday since he had graduated high school and moved, he had traveled to Tokyo, just to be immersed in all the excitement. He felt alive in all the streetlights, being surrounded by the people of ni-chome*, and above all, the freedom.

Hibari had always been a bit different. He could never be restrained, and yet with no one monitoring his actions, he still chose to stay in the boring Namimori. The police would patrol every night looking for any "young" people around. Mukuro suspected that the police feared the ex-prefect, though. For when he went for his daily midnight strolls, no one dared to bother him.

Mukuro on the other hand, had been caught so many times, the officers began to plot his routes to figure out his patterns, but that's a secret he'd never tell.

Mukuro sighed once again, this time laying his heads in the cradle his arms created on the table. Maybe if he had studied harder or went to cram school, he could have made it into a university in Tokyo. Of course, the thought of living in Tokyo made him reach for his wallet in comfort. Living in any city would be considered cheap compared to the shining capitol. Honestly, he had asked Hibari for money when his paycheck and monthly expenses didn't quite leave enough for the rent one month, but quickly pulled it off as a joke by adding a couple cynical comments and a chuckle. He wouldn't stoop so low as to ask his...rival. So instead, he had gone to ask his younger sister, that option was of course last resort. His younger sister did indeed have money, but he never quite liked asking for help from her. After all he was the big brother!

Chrome, his younger sister, had recently gone back to Italy for business. She was the jewel of the household, younger than Mukuro, yet already employed by a successful company. Using her background, as a foster child of an Italian family to get hired was something only she could do. Being able to speak both languages sealed the job up for her. Mukuro sighed. He missed Italy. In all honesty though, he would take Namimori any day over his home in the country.

Aside from some remaining family, he really did indeed miss the Italian food his mother used to make for him. After all, Mukuro Rokudo may have a Japanese name, look Japanese, and speak Japanese, but he is indeed a full-blooded Italian. As a child, he often took the meals his mother had made using their farm's products for granted. Here in Namimori, you _could _find Italian food**, but it wasn't the same as his mother's. After all, she cooked _real _Italian food.

Which is why Mukuro asked Hibari, as a birthday present, to cook him a dish from his childhood.

Indeed Hibari was aware of Mukuro's lineage, but would not have a single clue as what he ate as a kid. He had never ever been a fan of Italian cooking. He just simply never really ate it often enough to grow fond of it.

Sure he could have asked Dino for help, as he was too from Italy, but that didn't sit well with him.

After all, Hibari Kyoya never asks for help.

Any normal person with Mukuro's request to fulfill would probably begin to research classic Italian recipes, but Hibari Kyoya was not just any normal person. He was _the _Hibari Kyoya!

As Mukuro had told Chrome over the phone the night before, it was a miracle he had "accepted" in the first place. Normally he would have received a punch to the face or be completely ignored, but not this time. Hibari, so willing to comply with Mukuro's had been a bit shocking actually.

"He must be planning something, Chrome," Mukuro complained to his younger sister.

He could he her sigh on the other side, "Really, the cloud man is actually quite nice." Mukuro shook his head in disbelief, "Excuse me, you only know the side of him that sleeps on the rooftops. I know his true nature is nothing more than a big, spoilt cat, that will claw you to get its way!"

Chrome was silent. Mukuro guessed he had perhaps forced her into a face palming session until she responded back with, "Actually, that's quite true. Sometimes I see him walking on the walls."

"Wait, what?"

"Not the walls of his apartment, but the big cement ones to separate the streets with private property. You know the one with hedges overgrowing on one side of it."

"Ah, I see a bunch of stray cats do that too!"

"Hibari sure likes high places, doesn't he?" Chrome seemed to ask in a dreamy tone. On the other end, Mukuro could hear rustling, meaning she was most likely trying to fid something. "Same with the rooftops, right?"

"Right." Mukuro could hear a scratching on the other line that resembled the noise he often heard as he passed by the beauty salon on his way to work early in the morning, the sound of filing nails.

"Ne, ne, what do you think he's going to make you?" He could hear the rubbing away of the pointy edges on her nails become a bit more rigorous, as she had absentmindedly asked.

"That's the scariest part of it all," Mukuro could her utter silence on her line now. "He hasn't asked me a single thing about my childhood, yet!"

And after a night of rolling around, anxious as to what his personal chef for the night would make for him, the fated evening had finally arrived.

Taking Mukuro away from his train of thoughts was none other than the sound of the faucet sinking running at full power; hands were scrubbing themselves in a bubble bath.

Mukuro gulped. His meal was finally done. Indeed he was frightened by the thought of being poisoned, so had had made sure to tell a couple of people casually about his dinner date with Hibari.

If he ended up dead by a toilet after vomiting for hours, they'd know whom to arrest.

Hibari was looking quite smug as usual, so Mukuro decided to play along with his game and put upon his face the most arrogant façade he could come up with.

Eyes slightly slanted, grin pulled back showing his teeth, a "kufufu" making it's way out from their owner's lips, and a posture of pure boredom.

"Done yet, Kyoya?" Mukuro picked up the fork he had settled on the countertop up again and began to point its edges against his lips, ever so seductively.

Rather than answering, Hibari simply put a dish, covered with a pot's lid in front of him. Dramatically slow, he placed his fore fingers on handle delicately, and pulled up, revealing…

"Wait, what is this?" Mukuro had completely lost his Mr. Cool face, in substitution for a dumbfounded one. "No seriously, what is th-wait, wait, wait! Is that rice your scooping?"

Hibari looked back at him with a look of pure pity, written across his face was, "Oh you poor creature, unable to recognize white rice." Then he turned back to the rice cooker and continued to ladle in more rice.

"Um, sorry to break this to you, but Italian food doesn't involve Japanese rice."

"This isn't Italian food," Hibari once again shot Mukuro a look of pure pity, this time portraying, "Oh you, can't even tell the difference between the food you ate as a child and food that isn't that."

"Well I can see that. What is _this _then?"

Hibari rolled his eyes, at the pure contradictoriness of Mukuro's statement but never the less answered, "_This _is Mapo Tofu."

"What?"

"I'm not repeating it again." With that, Hibari went to the drawers on the side to look for his eating utensils.

"Wait, I'm pretty sure I asked for something Italian, something from my childhood."

Hibari reappeared with a pair of chopsticks in hand, walked over to Mukuro, leaned in so that the tips of their nose touched, and whispered, "This is _my _childhood."

"Oh wait, didn't you say that when you lived with your grandfather he made Mapo Tofu everyday? "

Hibari didn't answer, but had a slight smirk to his lips.

All the memories for Mukuro were rushing back. Yeah, that's right. Hibari's grandfather, Fong, ate Mapo Tofu for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Wait…he had just remembered something.

"Isn't Mapo Tofu spicy?"

Hibari didn't bother answering as he pulled another random chair to the other side of the counter.

"It is, isn't it? You know I can't eat spicy food."

With that, Hibari hadn't even bothered looking up at Mukuro as he began to dig into his dinner.

"That's not my rice is it?" To respond, Hibari took a giant chunk with his chopsticks and plopped it into his mouth.

Mukuro slouched back against his chair again, arm loosely covering his face. "Why didn't I see this coming?"

"Because you're stupid."

Mukuro sat back up, leaning in towards Hibari, elbows on the table, and flicked his temple.

However, Hibari's skin made of iron probably didn't feel anything. "So what am I going to eat?"

At this, Hibari looked up at Mukuro, eyes a tad wider than normal, "So what _are _you going to at. Better yet, when are you going to leave? You're crowding around my space as I eat. "

Of course he had to have expected this. Now this would be another convenience store bento box taken out of his paycheck. He'd better leave now before all the good ones were gone.

Looking down at Hibari once again and his happy expressions, he realized that

This

Meant

War!

Two could play at this game. If Hibari wanted him to leave, he'd neva' leave.

Scooting his chair even closer in, he watched in amazement as Hibari took an entire spoonful of the dish. "You aren't like a cat at all."

Suddenly, Hibari stopped eating, opting to look up at Mukuro instead. 'Shit, had he said that out loud?'

"No, you're much more like one." With that, he began to once again dig into his plate, this time splitting apart some bean curds.

"What?"

"I'm not repeating myself."

"No, no, tell me how."

Hibari continued to eat and Mukuro thought it would be a lost topic when he had suddenly said. "Because you're so fickle. Never being satisfied with where you're living, going from place to place . . . you whiny bastard."

Mukuro though about that for a bit. Indeed he hadn't really liked all of the places he'd been to. He had been through other cities like Namimori before he had actually settled in there. Tokyo would have been the best choice, but it lacked the sort of privacy he wanted and he didn't have the money required to live there.

"You know, I'm going to try some," Mukuro said standing up, heading to get himself a bowl of rice. The least he could do to save money would be leeching off at Hibari's stock of rice.

"No, this is mine."

Settling back down, Mukuro pulled the plate closer to him, "No, this is technically mine. You said this would be my birthday gift, didn't you?"

"I never said anything."

"Ah, that's right. I suggested the idea."

"And I never agreed. " Mukuro looked up as he fished around in the plate covered in what looked to be the passageway to hell. "Then, you mister, still owe me a birthday present. "

"You were clubbing in Tokyo during your birthday, and consider it a gift that I didn't tell your sister when she called, asking for _you. _Not only that, it's almost been a month since you're birthday."

"Wah. That doesn't mean anything. I'm still expecting a gift from you." Picking up a rather large…thing up with his fork, he noticed it wasn't tofu…or any type of meat for the matter. "Is this…pineapple?"

Hibari didn't look up.

"You bastard." Dropping it back into the sauce, Mukuro picked around some more until he found a small piece of grounded pork. Cautiously, he took a lick, before dropping it all in his mouth.

Deciding he could be nice once in a while, Hibari pushed him a cup of iced tea, he had poured for himself earlier.

Mukuro downed it within seconds.

"You and your cat's tongue."

"Well excuse me for not being a machine like you."

Hibari ignored the last comment and continued to eat. "Aren't you going to have more?"

"No."

Tugging the plate back to his side, Hibari went for another piece of tofu.

Mukuro leaned back to against the back of the chair again. "Neh, if I were to move to Tokyo one day, would you move with me?"

Not looking up at Mukuro, he answered, "Do you really hate it here, that much?"

"It's so boring here. Don't you feel the same way?" Mukuro always tended to sound like a child when he talked about the dazzling metropolitan.

"This is my home."

'Yeah, but I left my home back in Italy too."

"No, this is your home." Mukuro look taken aback by Hibari. He had never really sounded so defiant against Mukuro's words before.

"Then, why do you like it here? You were born in China. That's technically your home, isn't it?" Mukuro leaned in once again. The man before him never ceased to amuse him.

"My home is here."

Mukuro rolled his eyes once more. This man never ceased to annoy him either. "Then what makes it your home?"

Hibari decided to eat the very last bit of his Mapo Tofu first. Then after clearing his place, he stood, hand rested on the back of the chair, "I made it my home."

Confused, Mukuro also decided to stand up. "I mean it. Answer seriously. "

"Mukuro Rokudo, where does your family live?"

"You know that already Chrome lives here. But that's not the point. People always live apart from their families."

"No, where do I live?"

"…"

"Where." This time it wasn't a question, but a flat out statement dripping with the urge to kill someone.

"Here! You live here. Now calm down."

"That's right." With that, Hibari picked up Mukuro's half-eaten bowl of rice and began to bring it to the sink, "Now, get out before I beat you to death."

Mukuro didn't need to be told twice to do so.

As he made it back down to his floor, he stopped for a moment. Hibari considered him family.

It was kind of an odd feeling to take in all at once. Chrome was sort of right about Hibari, but at the same time wrong. A cat may be allowed to roam the streets till it's content, but it's not like a skylark, which has the entire world under its wings.

Something so free.

Hibari was indeed an interesting man. Maybe this place wasn't so boring after all.

Owari.

Omake~

Mukuro retelling his dinner to Chrome.

"You said what?"

"Well he asked me what I was going to eat," Mukuro calmly stated.

"Yeah?"

"And so I pushed him against the wall, grabbed his hair, and purred into his ear,'_ you_'."

"Really?"

"Well, I'm going to do it someday."

"Okay…but why the sudden…um passion for Hibari?"

"Oh dear Chrome, Kyoya, yes our Kyoya, asked me marry him." Mukuro could hardly believe it himself. It had taken a while to decipher the bird's words but eventually, he had come to that conclusion.

He could hear Chrome's oh so familiar sigh, "Um, Mukuro-sama, I'm pretty sure that wasn't what he meant."

"No, no, no, I was confused at first too, but I realized that he was asking me to legally become part of his family. After all, we aren't family on papers yet."

"No, I'm sure that's not what he meant. I'm pretty sure it was all figurati-"

"Ah, you're just jealous that I'm marrying into a family of wealth and get to move to Tokyo, aren't ya?'

"Oh so honorable brother, really? Didn't Hibari already say that he liked it in Namimori?"

"Oh, no, no, he only likes it because I'm here. If I move to Tokyo, I'm sure he'll just love that place too!"

"You're really stupid aren't you." Once again with the statements.

"…Yes, I've been told that."

* * *

* Ni-Chome or Nichome or even 2-Chome as people would call it, is an area in Shinjuku, were all the LGBT peeps go. Actually, I hear all sorts of people go there. The area is pretty famous for its drag queens and gay bars, though.

** In Tokyo, there are SO many Italian restaurants -especially in Shibuya.

Okay, how'd I do? Thanks for reading until the end, and if you see any mistakes or want to discuss anything within it, please feel free to message me!

I think the ending was a bit rushed, as I wanted to include more bl scenes, and a bit more on the whole animal representation/free feeling stuff. Oh well. In the future, I may redo this or continue it in a different one shot as I kinda like this setting. This time, I had a deadline to make. I finished typing and editing today, so a lot of the errors probably haven't sunk in yet. So plot holes, grammatical errors, ect. You name it.

On a sorta different note, I wanted to try a different style when writing this. However, as I was pressed for time, I think some parts may be written...I dunno. What do you think?

Until next time!

R&R~


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